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Bob Goes to the Store


Bob wakes up early one Saturday morning in his purple Pajamas and decides that he will take a trip to the store, for he was feeling super adventurous. He feeds his cat, Mr. Snuggles, and walks out of the door. It takes him 10 minutes to reach the store and by that time, he was very tired. Bob likes to walk places, especially to the store. He likes stores. "Yay, stores!" He shouts. Once he's in the store, he walks up the counter and asks,
"Do you sell milk here, good sir?"
"Duh," says the woman behind the counter.
"Oh, thank you ever so much," he replies.
Bob walks casually over to the milk fountain and gets a big gulp of his favorite type of milk. "Mmm... milk," he says to himself. Bob likes milk. Bob takes his milk happily over and places it on the counter.
"That will be $3.57," says the woman.
"Oh, how utterly wonderful!" Screams Bob.
"There's no reason to scream!" Says the woman nervously.
"I'm sorry, I just love milk so much!"
"Yay, milk!" They say together.
Bob happily skips out of the store and into the street. As he walks home, with his fresh milk in hand, he runs into another man in the street with a pink shirt and spills his milk all over him.
"My milk!" Shouts Bob.
"My shirt!" Shouts the man back.
"Noooo!" Screams Bob.
"AHHHHH! O' MAH GOD, NOO!" Says the man casually.

They both start to cry and Bob becomes depressed. He walks home, leaving the man there to cry excessively over his ruined pink shirt. Bob doesn't care about the world anymore. He has never felt so alone. He reaches home, the little white box at the end of the street, and sobs at his misfortunes. Inside, Mr. Snuggles comes up to Bob purring for some fresh delicious milk only to find out that Bob has none.
"Mr. Snuggles, I've failed you! Please, forgive me!"
Mr. Snuggles shakes his head in disgust, packs his things, and leaves. Bob cries himself to sleep that night.
For the next 30 years, Bob never leaves his house. He drinks the tears of spilt milk and feeds on his own self pity. He becomes obsessed with his past. His walls become covered with empty milk containers and pictures of pink shirts. It makes him sick just looking at it, but, still, he plans for revenge. The empty milk containers torment Bob and laugh at him every single day.
"Hey, Mr. Bob! Where's your milk?? I don't see any milk!"
"Shut up, shut up all of you!"
"Ohhh, that's right. You spilt it all. All of it!"
"It wasn't my fault! Why can't you just leave me alone?! Let me live my life in peace!"
"I'm afraid we can't do that, Bob. Not until you finish the task."
"I can't do it, It isn't right!"
"Remember how you felt that morning? It felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once, didn't it?"
"Don't make me remember the horror!"
"You have to do it! You have to buy another cup of milk!"
"Damn you, noooo!"
Bob faints and the milk containers laugh and giggle and sing songs for all the little children, but no children come. Bob dreams of that horrid morning and of his long lost cat, Mr. Snuggles. In his dream, he sees Mr. Snuggles in the distance and tries to reach out to him, calling him name.
"Mr. Snuggles, Mr. Snuggles! Why did you leave me?"
"You know why I left Bob, you know perfectly well"
"Come back to me, please, things will be different!"
"Nothing can change that morning. NOTHING! You're worthless and pathetic!"
"Don't use such harsh words, Mr. Snuggles! You shouldn't use such harsh words!"
"My words are useless, as are you. Farewell, Bob, don't you dream about me again."

Bob wakes up screaming a scream so shrill, that even all the milk containers tremble in fear. They eventually go back to making sexual innuendoes with the orange juice and laughing hysterically at Bob, now merely a broken corpse rolling on the ground. The walls around him seem to be strangling him, for he can not breath. He reaches out for something, only to find nothing. He had no more will to live, to survive. His life has been torture and agony; he can't take it anymore. Cursing the name of milk, he stands up and jumps out the window. In his weak state of mind, he had completely forgotten that he was on the first floor and he could hear the laughter and mocking inside the house clearer than ever. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, trying to escape the walls of his house and the milk cartons that haunt it. The sounds follows him; he can not escape. He falls over and lands at the feet of a man, a man with a pink shirt carrying a cup of milk. The man helps Bob to his feet.
"You! It's you!"
"Yes, It is indeed me."
"Have you come to kill me?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous." Giggled the man. "I have come to give you something."
"Give me what??"
"This milk."
"Ahhh, this can't possibly be!" Screams Bob "I can't do it!"
"Of course you can! Do it for Mr. Snuggles."
"Mr. Snuggles left me 30 years ago. He's never coming back. You're trying to trick me!"

Bob snatches the milk, pours it all over the man, and runs. "Noooooo, My shirt!" shouts the man. Bob runs like the wind and never looks back. The horrifying screams of the man could still be heard from miles away. He starts to see men in pink shirts everywhere and he begins to cry. "What have I done?!" Sobbing in his arms. "Why, milk? Why do you hate me so?!"
Suddenly, Milk flows over the world and consumes Bob. Bob begins to swim around and drink the milk. He had never been so happy in his life. "Yay, milk, you do love me!" He shouts contentedly. He sees Mr. Snuggles and they swim and cuddle in the ocean of warm milk. "Yay, yay, yay, we love milk!" They exclaim to the world.
"I've missed you Mr. Snuggles," says Bob as he smiled with endless joy.
"I've always missed you, Bob! I think I'm in love with you!"
"Hey, man, don't take it that far, Mr. Snuggles. I don't have some weird cat fetish. That's just plain gross."
"But, but... I thought what we had was special?" Says Mr. Snuggles.
"Nope, not really. I just like milk..."

...
"Jesus Christ, this is just plain ridiculous!" Throwing the story away into the fire to burn for all eternity. "This has to be the biggest piece of crap I've ever read" says Adrian as he shakes his head in complete and utter disappointment. "Why in god's name would someone write a story about some guy called Bob who goes to buy milk? Talk about a piece of twenty-first century bullshit." He glances at the clock, the time is 23 minutes to 161. "Damn these 168-hour clocks, they make the weeks feel so long." Stroking his beard, he picks up the next story. "Franklin goes to the Market," it read. "You've got to be kidding me," Adrian sighs to himself.